


Man's Best Friend

by rushie



Series: Mad Max and His Dog [1]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Max Gets A Dog, implied capable/nux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4105764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rushie/pseuds/rushie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What is that?”</p><p>Max shrugs, shifts from side to side. Only when Furiosa continues to stare at him, eyes slightly narrowed, does it become apparent that the question isn’t rhetorical. He scratches the back of his neck, eyes moving back and forth. “’s a dog.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Man's Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Not my favorite piece, but hopefully future "Max and his dog" pieces will come easier.

He finds the dog in the canyon.

He knows going back there is useless--everyone is dead--but he wants to do this thing for Capable, wants to bring the War Boy back for her. There’s something comforting about the ritual actions of saying goodbye. He can’t help but wonder if maybe the voices, the visions, would never have come if he had been allowed to say a proper farewell. He wants to spare Capable this particular madness, if he can. So he looks.

The War Boy is in the driver’s seat of the War Rig, his hands blackened from the fire and clutching the wheel. His eyes are closed, and the Road Warrior thanks whatever god is listening. He doesn’t need another ghost. Max takes a deep breath and shifts closer to begin pulling him out. The Rig is turning almost completely upside down; the door came off in his hand when he opened it. He braces one foot on the dash for extra purchase. But before he can reach out and grab the War Boy’s arm, the ghosts come.

They hit him all at once, all of a sudden, and he utters a wordless exclamation, puts a hand to his head. He sees a flash of a little girl, impossibly blue eyes, _why did you leave Max_ and then the girl is a woman and the woman is a blonde Wife with a round stomach and the Wife is a War Boy haunted and hollow and angry angry angry--

Something wet touches his hand and he jerks in surprise, wrenched into the present, and he reels, ready to fight, when he realizes what he’s looking at.

It’s a dog.

It’s a mangy thing, leggy, fur the tan-orange color of the dust that covers the ground for miles. There’s a scar running down the left side of its face, it has only one eye, and one of its paws is tucked up toward its chest in a way that suggests there’s something wrong with the leg. One of its ears flops over. Its tail is long, thick, and it thumps against the open doorframe of the Rig’s passenger side.

Max hasn’t seen a dog in a long time, and he thinks he might be hallucinating. He scrubs at his eyes, but the dog is still there when he opens them again, watching him, tail still moving back and forth. He tries to shoo it away--he barely has food for himself, let alone a dog--but the animal just steps closer, sniffing at him in a curious way. Amused, the Road Warrior reaches out a tentative hand and scratches the dog behind the ears. He looks from the dog to the body and back again.

“Well,” he says, “go on. Get in the car.”

The dog trots just a few feet ahead while Max shoulders the body, climbs into the passenger seat like it’s been doing this sort of thing its whole life. Max grunts at it, eases the body into the back, and slides into the driver’s seat. Halfway to the Citadel, he straps a pair of goggles over the dog’s eyes and rolls down the window so it can stick its head out.

 

\---

 

Furiosa meets them when they get there. She looks better--stronger--but there’s a touch of hesitancy to her steps every now and then that he thinks most people don’t notice. She’s still a little weak, and she’s trying to hide it. She peeks into the car, eyes the body in the backseat, looks back at him with a question and the answer in her eyes. Max bobs his head to the side, answering her unspoken words, and she signals for a few War Boys to take Nux out of the car. She watches him the whole time.

The dog makes its exit from the car then, leaning his nose in her direction before coming to sit by Max. The goggles are still on, and its tail kicks up a cloud of dust as it thumps. Aware of Furiosa watching him, he carefully removes the dog’s goggles, loops them over his wrist.

“What is that?”

Max shrugs, shifts from side to side. Only when Furiosa continues to stare at him, eyes slightly narrowed, does it become apparent that the question isn’t rhetorical. He scratches the back of his neck, eyes moving back and forth. “’s a dog.”

Her voice is restrained and amused. “I can see that. Where’d you get him?”

He grunts, points his thumb over his shoulder. “Canyon.”

Furiosa nods, hands on her hips, and studies the dog, which looks back at her. She steps forward and crouches down, resting her elbows on her knees. The dog’s tail moves a little faster, and he leans forward, sniffing the air in front of Furiosa’s face. They remain that way for a while, studying each other, and then Furiosa reaches out and scratches the dog between the ears. She stands, turns to head back into the Citadel.

“Well, if you’re keeping him,” she shoots over her shoulder, “he’s going to need a name.”


End file.
